


I Love You

by TheBrightestNight



Series: love is stored in the cut fruit [5]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29328786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBrightestNight/pseuds/TheBrightestNight
Summary: "Cut fruit, like love, doesn’t take much to serve but patience and practice. It’s the willingness to swallow some bitterness so someone else enjoys only sweetness." Connie Wang
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: love is stored in the cut fruit [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153592
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last part of a fun little series I've had in mind for years now, but never had a theme (other than the lyrics) to tie them together, and never really had any ideas to write more than like two. Now I'm in enough fandoms that I actually write for to do this, it's been several years, and I finally found a theme I like.
> 
> It's for Valentine's Day—a countdown, of sorts—but some in this short series are friend and/or familial love, too.
> 
> Titles for each come from Plain White T's song, _1234_.
> 
> Theme inspired by, and quote in summary from, [THIS ARTICLE](https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/2020/05/9747262/asian-cut-fruit)
> 
>  **Additional Notes:** My personal HC for Martin is that he's half-Chinese on his father's side (paired with that lil tidbit that he looks like his father).
> 
> First part takes place in s1; second part takes place in s4 (which I've changed around a little? I think? I can't keep track of the timeline but I'm certain what I write here is not following the timeline lol).
> 
> many thanks to [@ebenrosetaylor](https://ebenrosetaylor.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It felt like such a silly little thing to Martin. Especially since he was _sure_ Jon did _not_ like him. Still, he often noticed Jon liked to stay late. And, in Martin's mind, it seemed ill-advised to consistently stay late after work without a snack. So Martin took it upon himself to provide said snack.

Now, Tim may have said Martin was doing this because of his crush. Martin, however, rationalized that it was simply a nice thing to do and was hoping this might be a good way to get on Jon's good side.

Martin began preparing small containers of cut fruit. It was something his father had begun to teach him, and something his grandmother on his father's side had continued to teach him after his father had died and before his mother had banished that side of his family from their lives.

He got up an hour earlier the next morning to prepare the apples he'd bought on his way home last night and put all the perfect ones into a container, stacking them in a layered fan-like pattern to display the pieces. Then it was off to work. There he stored it in the minifridge down in the archives. At the end of the day, he made Jon tea, like usual, except this time, he left the small container of cut fruit next to it.

Jon was too engrossed in his paperwork to notice. Martin even had time to take the lid off and set it underneath the container. Then he mumbled a good night, and quickly left. He'd just ducked behind a corner when he heard Jon's office door open and Jon call, "Martin?"

Martin paused, waiting to hear what he'd do. Jon called his name one more time before more silence. If Martin strained his ears, he thought he could hear Jon's pacing footsteps. This went on for several minutes before a moment of silence, more footsteps, another moment of silence, footsteps. Then the sound of Jon's office door closing.

Holding his breath, Martin slowly turned and peeked back around the corner. The shared office space was empty. But something caught his eye on his desk. Martin frowned; it was the container of fruit, with its lid back on. Perhaps he should've been more straightforward about it. Would Jon have even accepted it if he had, though?

With a heavy heart, Martin resigned himself to taking it home with him when he heard Jon's office door go again. His heart leapt into his throat as he quickly ducked back behind the corner, holding his breath and squeezing his eyes shut, hoping beyond hope Jon hadn't seen him. He tried to listen for footsteps coming in his direction, but the blood was roaring too loud in his ears.

It wasn't until he heard a door slam shut again did he relax enough to get his blood to stop pumping so fast and his heart to settle back into his chest.

Martin peeked around the corner again. The container was gone. Biting back a smile, Martin headed home.

The next morning, his empty container, now clean, sat on his desk. Hiding his smile, because Tim was right behind him, he quickly went up to his desk and shoved the container into his bag before Tim could see. Martin peeked over his shoulder, to make sure Tim hadn't noticed. He hadn't. He was still going on about an early-morning show he'd watched because he couldn't sleep, saying it felt more like a fever-dream.

Martin made it a habit, then. He'd buy a handful of whatever fruit was in season, wake up an hour early, peel, pit (if needed), and meticulously cut up the fruit, put it in a small container, and head to work. Then, at the end of the day, he'd give it to Jon with his tea before leaving for home.

When Martin moved into the archives, he had more time on his hands, therefore more time to peel and cut fruit (avoiding the peaches, of course). With so much time, he started to cut fruit for Tim and Sasha, too. But not always. Jon was always his first priority because…okay sure, _maybe_ , he had a teeny-tiny crush on him—that wasn't the point!

At some point, Jon wasn't just cleaning the container, but placing a small placard on top with _Thank You_ written in different calligraphy scripts. Martin thought Jon had printed them. Upon closer inspection, he realized that Jon had actually hand-written them. Which...really didn't help that crush thing.

* * *

Jon sat back in his chair and sighed. He took his glasses off to massage the bridge of his nose before placing them back on and looked around his office. It felt particularly dark and oppressive these days. He glanced at the mug of tea on his desk, steeping, and a vision flashed before his eyes: it was of the very same mug with a small container of cut up fruit next to it.

He missed Martin.

Jon didn't sleep well these days, if he slept at all. It certainly wasn't for the lack of trying. Perhaps he fainted so much during the day, his body figured that was enough "rest" for him. If you could call it _rest_.

Either way, it was two in the morning, he couldn't get to sleep, and all he could think about was Martin giving him cut fruit. Exhaling sharply, Jon threw the duvet off him and went into the kitchen. Did he have any fresh fruit? No.

It was a good thing there was a 24-hour shop nearby. Jon quickly popped inside, bought some apples, and made his way back to his flat to begin the slow process of peeling and cutting…which proved to be more difficult than he'd first thought. So he went back out to buy more apples.

It took him longer than he planned. He _was_ a bit of a perfectionist. All he could think about was how perfect those apple slices had looked the _first_ time, four years ago, that Martin had given him. So he wanted his slices to be perfect, too.

Jon even arranged them similarly, but with a little flair of his own. Martin's had been stacked and layered like a fan and in a smaller container. Jon, however, had taken out a large, square container and layered them in a circle. It still had that fan-like look, but he filled it more like how you might fill a pie to make it look like a blooming flower.

When the sun began filtering into Jon's small kitchen window, he'd finally managed what he'd wanted. With a satisfied, if a bit weary, sigh, Jon placed the lid on the container and got ready for the day.

On his way to the Institute, he mentally prepared himself for the cold shoulder from Martin. Just thinking about it made Jon's heart ache in the worst way, but he was going to give these apple slices to Martin if it killed him. So to speak.

When he arrived, he swallowed hard before entering the archives, proper and going straight to the door he knew led to Martin's office space. Whether Martin would _be_ there was another question. (He wouldn't. And Jon knew this.)

Still, when he got to the door, he knocked, softly calling, "Martin?"

When Martin didn't answer, holding his breath, Jon gripped the door knob and turned it. It turned smoothly in his hand, so Jon gently pushed the door open. The office was sparse. Nothing covered the white walls and all that sat at the desk was the computer, a keyboard and mouse, and a small pencil holder with two pencils and three pens. It somehow felt larger than Jon's, though just as oppressive.

Jon looked around, _almost_ tempted to say, "I know you're here" but bit his tongue. Instead, he carefully pulled out his container of apple slices, so as to not jostle the formation of the slices, and set it gently on Martin's desk. He almost hoped, at the sight of it, Martin would appear. But he didn't.

Though Jon had prepared himself, it didn't sting any less.

Jon exited Martin's office, firmly shutting the door behind him before heading to his own office.

It didn't seem fair that Jon could fall asleep so easily when working. And he was sure, this time, he'd fallen asleep and not passed out. One moment he was reading a statement, the next, he's waking up with his head cradled in his folded arms on his desk. Now his back and neck ached, and his arms had gone numb.

With a hiss of pain, Jon sat up and tried to stretch a little as feeling slowly worked their way back into his arms, hands, and fingers. It was as he was waiting, looking around to occupy his mind, did he notice an empty container sitting on his desk. _His_ container, to be exact. The one he'd put the apple slices in that morning. It was cleaned and sitting atop it was a small placard with the words, _Thank you_ , written on it in Martin's scrawl.

Jon took in a small, shaky breath as his heart did a little summersault in his chest.

So Jon began buying whatever fruit was cheapest and in season, avoiding peaches, and preparing them before dawn, when he couldn't sleep, to bring to Martin that day. Well, it was always Martin's office that greeted Jon, and it never stopped stinging. But when Jon would inevitably wake up from either an unexpected nap or after collapsing, he always found his empty container, sitting on his desk with a small placard with the words, _Thank you_ , written on it.

**Author's Note:**

> *bows* Happy Valentine's Day y'all <3
> 
> i dearly hope you enjoyed this, as well as the others in the series, if you've been following it/read some of the others/read all of the others. i have always wanted to do a series like this, so thank you for joining me and reading (even if it was just the one).
> 
> reblog on tumblr [here](%E2%80%9C)
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed! Comments are much appreciated ^_^
> 
> Thank you for reading,  
> TheBrightestNight


End file.
